The next two days passed without incident, the winding forest road offering nothing more dangerous than the occasional squirrel darting across the path. The caravan moved in calm waves… rising with the sun, rolling forward at a steady pace, stopping near rivers or clearings to rest, and sleeping under the stars or canopies in quiet camps.
The group had grown more relaxed, their movements less tense. Some of them even began humming songs as they traveled, believing, half-seriously, that Lance's mere presence kept danger at bay, and perhaps they were right.
So far, no beast dared cross their path, no bandit leapt from the shadows… even the wind seemed to blow more gently… that could have been their imagination also.
Lance kept to himself for the most part, either riding in the back of a carriage or walking quietly beside them. His tall, broad frame and quiet confidence made him seem like a sentinel, untouchable and serene.
